


blood; sugar and syrup

by scarsimp



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Crumbs of edling, Fainting, Food Issues, Gen, and chronic pain, bc idk it fits?, ik its for laughs but passing out from being hungry regularly isnt, it fits, ling has blood sugar issues, normal - Freeform, uhhh, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26163751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarsimp/pseuds/scarsimp
Summary: Ling is chronically sick. He tries not to be.(Sugar and caffeine are his closest friends)
Relationships: Fu & Ling Yao, Lan Fan & Ling Yao
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	blood; sugar and syrup

Waking up was harder than it should be. It always had been, Ling's eyes too sluggish to move and his body stiff and unyielding. After years and years of ( _ hush, boy. you're too young/they're growing pains/the doctor didn't see anything)  _ being brushed off he had it down to a rhythm. Wake up, unlock his jaw from where he ground his teeth and ignore the headache trailing up his jaw, sit up and don't wince when his spineribsshoulderslegs roared in protest. 

He had mastered pretending he was okay and being able to ignore the worried looks Lan Fan would send him every few minutes. Hunger gnawed in his belly and he ignored that too, unwilling to admit he had anything but a big appetite. ( _ he had woken up too often to Lan Fan panicked over him, forcing sugar and syrups through his teeth as he shivered uncontrollably.)  _ It could be funny— he tried to make it funny, but sometimes she would catch his eye and the frown she sent him made something in his already unsettled stomach curl up and die. 

Ling really did try to be okay. Sometimes he'd manage to remember things more than he forgot, and could work his body to the brink but not beyond. ( _ He wouldn't faint/vomit/feel the shriek of a joint as it moved out of place)  _ He could sit up in the morning with no noise instead of a repressed whimper and it would be a good day. He could sit quiet and still and let his mother comb through his hair without the looming anxiety that the comb would be silver and steel in nary a moment. 

Amestris was even worse— the food clung to his teeth and throat and it made him choke. It was bland and the texture was poor and Ling honestly, truly could not understand how that Elric stomached so much of it at a time. ( _ Neither Fu nor Lan Fan commented on how his episodes got worse in Amestris; Ling chalked it up to the homesickness they all had.)  _ The only tolerable part was the desserts and even they were plain. He would eat it when he had to but he wouldn't be happy about it. 

And until then he ignored himself. It rained less there and that was enough of a trade off for him.  _ (Everything got worse in the rain, bones aching to the marrow and a fever he could never seem to break— Fu letting him rest his head on the man's shoulder and knowing that meant something was wrong, wrong, wrong.)  _ At least fainting meant he got off easier, no nausea or headaches cracking the foundation of his mind into two. He didn't need to feel the racing of his heart or the shivering he could never stop. Forcing himself to breathe. it was all empty instead. 

His head hurt. 

******

The first thing Ling noticed when he came to was how cold it was, the air ice against his sticky skin. His mouth was painfully dry as well, and when he tried to move it he winced, lips cracking. He could hear someone talking to him, voice familiar but words forgotten as he struggled to float awake.  _ (Gold hair, gold eyes, gold skin) _ He let out a groan, before choking at the rasp against his throat and trying not to cough. A warm hand pressed a cup into his own and he tried to take it. 

He was so  _ cold _ . His hands were trembling and as he tried to open his eyes he felt water lap against his palm. "Hey, hey— easy." Someone distant said, "You've been out for a while, don't push it." 

It was cold in his mouth and strangely sweet, ( _ he could feel the sugar grains in his teeth, scraping down his gum) _ and he was so, so thirsty. A hand brushed over his brow and he leaned clumsily into it, palm callused against his forehead. 

He finally opened his eyes. 

Edward Elric was staring down at him, face contorted with worry. Ling didn't try to speak again until he had another sip, and then he broke the thick silence in the room. "What happened?" His voice sounded rough, even to his own years. ( _ He knew what happened already.) _

"You fainted. Again." A voice that was not Ed or Al's rang out from behind him, and he made a noise of confusion as he tried to turn. A metal hand stopped him, and as Ling startled Lan Fan spoke again. "I told you to eat, young lord." ( _ He hated upsetting her. She was upset, why did he do that?) _

Ling gnawed at his lip, raising the cup back to his mouth to avoid answering. His silence was more of an answer than any word could be, and Ling tried not to shy away from the intense look Ed had on his face. "You have to take better care of yourself," he said, frown tugging at his eyes. "If you get sick like that a lot, you can wind up dying one day. You're supposed to be an emperor or something, aren't you?" 

His face ached and he tried not to wince when he sat higher up, ignoring the hand Al held out to him.  _ (He reminded him of Lan Fan, too knowing, too quiet. He was aware of something before it even happened.) _ One of his shoulders burned and his eyelids tugged low, but he'd wake up eventually. "I will be, yes. Just need to find what I'm looking for." 

"You won't be if you don't wake up one day." Ed's voice had taken on a edge of anger, something much more subdued than he usually expressed. "And you'll leave a ton of people behind missing you, too." A finger pressed into his sternum, and Ling raised a brow. "Don't look at me like that — you might be dead, and that just means you leave behind people who can't follow." 

"Good thing I'm not planning on dying anytime soon," Ling tried to lighten the mood, smiling.

It didn't work very well. 

"This is the third time you've blacked out in two days, young lord." He fell silent again when Lan Fan spoke out, drumming his fingers against the glass in his hands. His head was clearer, the pounding behind his teeth and eyes faded and gone. He could see the gray pallor of his hands, but they weren't shaking anymore so he counted it as a partial victory.  _ (Did Fu know where they were right now?) _

He shrugged, "I'm getting better—"

"You were getting better, but now it's worse." 

Ed was still frowning at him, like he was a puzzle to solve. He couldn't piece together why it didn't make his skin crawl ( _ always being observed/every second of every day, maids and servants and leaders in and out and inoutinout, eyes burning through him)  _ Ling was even more confused at what he said next. "I guess we're stuck with you officially, then. Can't let an emperor die in a ditch or anything.”

He felt warm. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Ed gets so defensive bc ppl who get sick easily? And push themselves anyway? Remind him of his mom


End file.
